


align my heart

by youspeakmysoul



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7513939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youspeakmysoul/pseuds/youspeakmysoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She isn’t sure why she’s surprised to find it's Jack on her doorstep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	align my heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short missing scene between 3x04 and 3x05 that includes Phryne's reaction to Arthur's death that I'm still disappointed we didn't get to see as well as a little of Jack's family past because we know so little. Title from _Mumford & Sons - Dust Bowl Dance._

She barely registers the knock at the door, fully prepared and trusting Mr Butler to send whoever it is on their merry way and allowing her to be alone with her thoughts for the evening. It’s late enough that she should consider going to bed but she feels like she couldn’t possibly sleep with the day’s events. With the silence of the room she can’t help but hear the conversation with her late night visitor.

“Ah Inspector, I’m afraid Miss Fisher isn’t receiving visitors this evening.”

She isn’t sure why she’s surprised to find it's Jack on her doorstep, it’s not as though either of them keep regular hours but she has a not unusual desire to see him and moves faster than she has all day to ensure he doesn’t leave just yet.

“Of course, Mr Butler I completely understand if you could-“

“It’s alright Mr B, thank you.” A soft voice cuts Jack off and directs his attention to the doorway where Phryne stands and Mr Butler disappears as quickly as expected after taking Jack's overcoat and hat before bidding them goodnight.

“Hello Jack.” It’s a forced smile and her eyes are slightly irritated red but when she returns to the parlour he follows her without a word.

The room is darkened with a lone lamp lit in the far corner of the room casting it in a warm glow. She can’t bear the room any lighter as her head hurts from what can only be a day spent repressing tears. She can’t remember how she felt when they realised Janey was missing but she knows it wasn’t like this. At that time there had been too many emotions wrapped up losing her but she imagines it was like losing a limb and a part of her has ached ever since.

But later, when she was too rational for her own good to know Janey was truly gone, came the feelings she remembers; the anger and frustration, the _guilt_. She didn’t need to see a body to know that Janey was dead.

After all that time it was inevitable but Arthur’s passing came too sudden for that. It’s the shock that claws at her, stirs up long buried feelings of helplessness. He always was her favourite cousin, a brightness that only a childlike soul can bring to the family, and if she’s being true to herself, her last link to Janey.

They were always a trio, what with Guy being more concerned with causing havoc and trying to impress the older girls from the better side of town, Arthur enjoyed their games, loved to be included. Admist everything growing up; her parents fighting and her fathers drinking, she remembers most clearly Janey and Arthur laughing together, not at anything in particular just the easy joy. Now she has another loss to add to her collection.

“Phryne, I’m so sorry.”

She doesn’t question how he knows, it doesn’t even cross her mind but he’s here and she’s grateful for his steady presence. She reclaims her earlier position curled up in the corner of the chaise, fingering a now empty whiskey glass on the side table.

 “I’m sure I’m not great company tonight, Jack.”

“Would you like me to go?" 

Although it's asked without expectation that's the very last things she wants so she shakes her head and he occupies the small space beside her.

“What happened?”

“Arthur always had a terrible heart, he took a night seizure and didn’t wake up.”

Her voice is calm, almost monotone but her hand shakes slightly and he take a hold of it gently. For a moment it’s all too familiar of the day they found Janey’s body and suddenly she can’t seem to stop the tears from falling. She would usually be rather embarrassed by the outpouring of emotion but Jack takes it in his stride, pulling her closer to him.

It’s slightly stilted the way he wraps an arm across her shoulders as though he’s not quite sure he should touch her at all but she relaxes against him and emboldened by her response his fingers make soothing circles across her upper arm.

She’s never been an emotional person, as a child she learned quickly that it’s easier to be angry than sad, boys who pulled you hair deserved a swift kick in the shins not your tears. Even as an adult she would much rather quiet and a good whiskey after a bad day but being pressed in to his side with her head on his chest just about feels as comforting.

She’s not sure how long they stay like that, if she had to guess she'd imagine close to an hour but she focuses simply on the rise and fall of his chest before taking a deep shuddering breath, feeling a lot calmer than she has all day and for a moment he holds her tighter.

“Would you like tea?” He whispers in to her hair and it confuses her for a brief moment before he explains, “My mother used to claim anything could be fixed with a cup of tea.”

 While she doubts the logic she fully appreciates the offer and nods shakily, taking the excuse to keep him in her house that little bit longer. He waits until she leans back in to the chaise, subtly wiping her eyes, before releasing her and rising to his feet.

He graciously offers her a hand up to her feet and doesn’t let go of her hand as he guides her towards the kitchen, realising that he was serious about making her tea. She sits at the small table as he shucks his suit jacket over a chair in an attempt to be more comfortable and she can’t deny how domestic it all seems.

As Jack putters around her kitchen she rests her head in her hands and can’t help but think out loud, “I didn’t see it coming.”

He stills for a moment before turning to look at her as though oncerned by her train of thought. “No one sees these things coming, Phryne.”

“My mother always did say death followed me.” She laughs rather coldly, a sound he’s never heard from her and it unsettles him just as much as the words themselves.

Placing a steaming cup of tea in front of her, she smiles gratefully her thanks and he settles in to the seat opposite, taking a moment before he answers, “Not because of-?”

“Oh no, this was some time before Janey but the sentiment certainly stuck,” she can’t help but retort bitterly. “Apparently I’ve always been a collector or strays too, birds with damaged wings, starving dogs, I thought I could save them all.”

“That’s the reason she likes to believe I joined the woman’s ambulance, eases the guilt I suppose. Better a daughter joining because she thinks she can save everyone than a daughter believing she’s some angel of death figure.”

He looks slightly horrified “You don’t really believe that, Phryne.”

She takes a deep breath in and sighs, resigned before taking a sip of tea tasting the generous measure of brandy he included as it warms her. “No I know, I don’t. Sorry, Jack I did tell you I wouldn’t be good company.”

“It’s not your fault. You do know that, don’t you?” There’s a quiet insistence to Jack’s tone that she can’t help but notice.

“Of course, although some days it’s easier to convince myself that than others.” She knows she should go to bed, Jack certainly doesn’t need her forlorn ramblings but she wants to indulge in his company for as long as she can.

He nods as though he understands the feeling, “I lost my father just before the war.”

“Jack, I’m sorry.” It sounds inadequate even to her own ears but she’s never heard him talk about his family, feels almost honoured that he’d trust her enough to tell her and she reaches out to squeeze his hand.

“I signed up quite soon after he died, in his memory I suppose, he always was a difficult man to please but I didn’t really consider anyone else before I did.” He shrugs nonchalantly but she imagines it was a cause of some dispute at the time.

“You wanted to make your father proud, there’s no shame in that Jack.”

“My mother was furious, she warned me if I didn’t come back in one piece she’d sell my bicycle.”

Phryne can’t help the surprised laugh that bubbles out of her, “Your bicycle?”

He smiles almost fondly at the memory “It was my most prized possession, a professional racing bike I had saved up months for.” She can almost imagine little Jack Robinson perhaps having paper route or helping out his neighbours to save up for a bicycle of his own. It strikes her, not the first time, how different their lives growing up must have been and how they both ended up here.

“You haven’t told me much about your family, I feel like I know nothing at all,” she says carefully, not quite asking him to tell her about them but she can’t help being curious.

He looks briefly confused for a moment as though being unable to fathom why she would want to know but answers nonetheless, “We were a small family. I’m the youngest, but I have two older sisters.”

She’s not surprised he has sisters actually, it makes sense that he grew up around women as he's a lot more liberal minded than he gives himself credit. He's never spoken down to her or considered her incapable simply for being a women, she'd like to think he considered themselves partners. She is surprised however that he’s never mentioned them before, “And where are they?”

“Josie is actually in Richmond, my mother lives with her and that's where I’m required at Sunday dinner when I can, but Kate moved to Perth after her husband, Sam lost a leg in the war. They tried to stay for a while but in the end they wanted to get away from everything, making a fresh start was how Kate described it.”

He knows she’ll understand that more than anyone. “I was almost tempted to do the same, after everything I wasn’t sure I could still do the job I left and although I was desperate to come home, I took my time returning to the police force, Rosie was obviously less than keen,” he trails off abruptly.

“But you came back,” she remarks almost forcefully as though refusing to allow him to feel any form of guilt. She guarantees there was never a question of Jack Robinson not doing the right thing.

“I came back wanting things to fall back in to place and they didn’t.” He looks almost concerned as though he might have revealed too much before draining his cup and standing up, she hadn’t realised hers has grown cold, too caught up in his words.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise how late it is.” Truthfully neither had she but she doesn’t mind in the least, thinks she might even have a chance of sleeping now.

She watches as he shrugs back in to his suit jacket, and she feels on slightly steadier ground with her usual buttoned up inspector back in front of her. “It’s perfectly fine, Jack.”

She follows him to her door, ready to wish him good night when he startles her, “You came back too.”

“What?”

He runs his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture she doesn’t think she’s ever seen and blames it easily on the lateness of the hour. “You also came back. I mean we both saw terrible things and no one came out unscathed but we’re still here. That’s the part I would focus on.”

For once in her life Phryne Fisher might be lost for words. He truly is a remarkable man, she wishes he could see that too. “The next dinner is this Sunday if you’re not busy I’ll introduce you, if you like?”

She looks up at him suddenly and can’t quite hide her shock butshe can tell he’s worried as though he’s overstepped some kind of boundaries. _He hasn’t_.

She nods, slightly overwhelmed by the gesture but sincerely wants to convince him it is in no way unwanted. She wants to tell him that she isn't sure she deserves such trust or that she's almost certain it's not a good idea but she overlooks her own objections and smiles. “I would like.”

He doesn’t smile but she can detect a sense of relief. She assumes he’s going leave immediately but he pauses for a moment, as though struggling to make a decision before he does something truly uncharacteristic and kisses her cheek, so briefly and without premise that she could easily mistake it for her imagination.

"Good night, Phryne," and he's so close his breath caresses her cheek.

He doesn’t give her the opportunity to say anything, she isn’t sure she could find the words even if he had but he’s out the door before she realises his hat is left hanging on the hook in her hallway, forgotten in his haste and she smiles to herself as she makes her way upstairs.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
